


Love at First Howl

by Coq



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:49:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27100735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coq/pseuds/Coq
Summary: CSI Jemma Simmons has a problem with the Forensics Unit's VCR.Hopefully, VCR repairman Leo Fitz doesn't realize what the problem actually is.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Love at First Howl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/gifts), [EclecticMuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticMuse/gifts).



> I received the prompt "Fitzsimmons, VCR Repair Shop AU, Werewolf" from my friend coselia, and this is what my brain spit out. It's my first fic for Agents of SHIELD but i'm hoping that it won't be the last :)
> 
> Please note that I do intend to write more to this story, but if I don't, this story ends on a fun cliffhanger that leaves the reader in control of what happens next in their imagination. If this bothers you and you need a solid ending to a story, please click the back button :) If you're okay with a potentially permanent cliffhanger ending, then please enjoy!

Jemma Simmons pushed open the heavy glass door.

The lobby of the VCR repair shop was floored with yellowing vinyl, and it smelled like grease and oil, but it was the only VCR repair shop in the tri-county area, or possibly the whole state, and she didn't have much choice. The other people in Forensics needed the VCR back as soon as possible, and they didn't even know it was broken.

The lobby seemed empty, and no one was behind the desk, which held a boxy, heavy-looking CRT monitor, the kind that she hadn't seen since secondary school. The dated wood paneling was covered in VCR ads so old that Jemma wondered if anyone even worked here, or if she'd somehow managed to find a store that had been lost in time (with an unlocked door).

"Hello?" she called out, uncertain.

She heard a sudden shuffling noise from the rear of the shop, as if a bunch of papers had just been knocked onto the floor, and rapid footsteps. Suddenly, a man appeared in the doorway separating the lobby from the back area.

Not just any man, though. An incredibly cute young man, with short, wavy golden hair, a close-cropped beard, and sparkling blue eyes. He looked just as shocked to see Jemma as she was to see someone who looked like him in a place like this.

"Can I help you?" he asked in the most nervous-sounding Scottish brogue she'd ever heard.

"I hope so," Jemma said. She held out the forensic unit's VCR. "It's been in a bit of a tumble, you can see."

"Aye." The man--Leo, his nametag said--nodded as he took the VCR from her and set it on the desk. "What...happened?"

"Well, the claw marks, those are from...my cat. And the blood is from...also my cat?" She forced a frilly giggle. "You know how those kitties can be. I'm Jemma, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Jemma, I'm Leo," he said distractedly. He traced his finger along the deep, jagged gouges that wrecked the metal top of the VCR casing. "Your cat," he said, skepticism clear in his voice.

"She can be a bit too playful sometimes," Jemma said, pasting on the cutest smile that she could bear right now. "Quite a handful, that one. Just turned six months old."

"Right," Leo said, still sounding skeptical, but he was smiling back at her. "Does it still play tapes all right?"

"Yes, I believe the damage is only cosmetic," Jemma said. Her smile felt as though it was slowly transforming from panicked cover-up to genuine. "But it's not a good look for the forensics department if our own equipment looks like it came from a crime scene."

"Forensics?" Leo looked up at her, his interest clearly piqued. "Like, dead bodies and crime scenes and such?"

"Yes, exactly," she said, nodding encouragingly. Anything to keep him from thinking too hard about the job in front of him. "Are you interested in forensics?"

"It'd be right hard to not be interested," Leo said. "Who doesn't find crime scene investigation to be just about the coolest thing ever?"

"VCR repair seems interesting, too, though," she offered.

Leo scoffed. "It's not my calling, but it's paying the bills right now. Speaking of, I think I have a matching model to yours in my scrap heap. Let me take a look, would you mind waitin' right here?" Before she could answer, he was scampering into the back. 

He seemed so full of life and energy. It was strange that he was in this sad-seeming place, she thought. As though he didn't belong here, but had been pasted in by some outside force. Maybe it was some sort of undercover mission. Maybe he was a spy!

Or...or a hunter... 

That thought derailed her whole train. He was far too handsome and charming to be working here. Werewolves, on the other hand, tended to be at the edges of society if they were open about their condition, which meant that many of them were poor, which meant they'd be more likely to patronize a business like this...

She had to be more careful. Bringing this in had been foolish, she should have made up an excuse and paid for a new tape system out of pocket, no matter how much it would have cost, anything would be worth not being found out--

Her heart was pounding in her chest and in her ears, and she looked down at her hands, where her fingernails had grown an inch in the past few seconds. She drew in a shuddery breath, trying to calm herself, but it was a shallow gasp, and she was at imminent risk, right this moment.

"Aye, I've got just the model here," Leo announced as he rounded the corner back into the lobby. When he looked at Jemma, he fumbled the VCR, managing to get it to fall onto the desk and not the floor. "Bloody hell, are you--are you all right? You look like you've just seen the devil!" He went around the desk and stood in front of her, looking like he wanted to offer comfort but didn't know how, or whether it would be welcome.

"Are you a hunter?" she gasped out, trying to will herself not to change, tensing up with every molecule in her body vibrating.

"What? A hunter? Like, of deers and such, no, I don't hunt, I don't--I like animals, what does this have to do with-- Do you need me to call 999? I mean--911?" He set his hand on her shoulder. It was warm and steady, and somehow, she was able to take a deep breath and let it out slowly, shakily. 

"No," she said, shaking her head, trying to clear the dark fog out. "I'll be all right."

"Please, sit down," Leo said, pulling out a chair for her from behind the desk. "I'll make you some tea, is Scottish Breakfast tea all right?"

"A nice all-day blend," Jemma said woozily as she sat down, leaning forwards and putting her head in her hands.

Leo had disappeared into the back again, and if Jemma knew what was good for her, she'd grab her VCR and run. But the extreme physical toll that preventing a change took on her body left her completely exhausted, and she felt like she'd make it two steps out the door before collapsing on the Milwaukee sidewalk...and then she'd really be in a pickle. She focused herself on breathing slowly and calmly, and clearing her mind like she'd seen videos about on the Lycanthropy Prevention and Management Center's YouTube channel.

Before she knew it, Leo was back, draping a threadbare but clean fleece blanket over her shoulders, and pressing a cup of tea into her hands. Hopefully he didn't notice her still too-long nails.

"You don't have to tell me what's wrong while I fix your VCR, but you're welcome to, if you like," Leo said. His voice was deceptively light and cheerful, which meant that he was either actually concerned about her or he really was a hunter in disguise (although that possibility seemed less likely now). "Or you can tell me how a nice English girl like you ended up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin."

"Civil rights over here are better than they are in England," she said, trying to be vague. It was true, as the anti-werewolf sentiment was much harsher and deadlier in England, and in the States, the big cities tended to be safer for blending in than small towns, and on rare occasion they were even somewhat accepting. 

"I don't know too much about that," Leo said as he began disassembling her VCR. "Guess I've got the privilege to not know."

"Indeed, you should be glad you don't need to know. After Brexit, well. I suppose I don't need to tell you how much everything changed, since you're here in the States as well."

"I came over here to do my PhD, but after Brexit, and everything after, I think I'm going to lay low for a while until the whole Second Referendum thing is all done, and I can just go back to Scotland proper. Though, honestly...this place is kinda growin' on me. Lots of snow, good beer, excessively friendly people."

"Did you finish your PhD?" Jemma couldn't resist asking.

"Nah," Leo said with a shrug. "Turns out I like tinkering a lot more than I like writing academic journal articles."

"I didn't finish mine either," Jemma said. _Because I got bitten before I got to the dissertation phase,_ she didn't say.

"But you're doing all right for yourself, seems like." Leo squinted as he unscrewed the last screw on the destroyed top casing. "Crime scene investigation! That's just so cool."

"It's got its moments, for sure." She watched him hold up the metal panel to the light to examine it more closely, and began formulating more plausible excuses in her head. She had a knife in her hand and slipped and fell... or maybe a sleepwalking episode after watching a slasher movie, that one could work--

"Are you a werewolf?"

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading my first AoS fic!! chat with me on Twitter @HRHSherlock i love making new pals :)


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